Fuck Love, Give Me Fire
by Katria Bloom
Summary: Harry/Draco and a violence/blood kink.


Blood- more specifically Draco Malfoy's blood- made Harry burn. He had known this ever since Sectumsempra slipped from his lips three years ago, but the burn had grown little by little over that period of time until it festered just below the surface of Harry's skin.

During Auror training one afternoon he had heard a crunch and a groan. A fleeting glance toward Malfoy and his sparring partner was enough time for Neville to overpower and pin Harry, his wand pressed into Harry's neck. Harry laid panting, watching blood pour down Malfoy's face across the room. The blood ran over his lips, down his chin, through his fingers, but Malfoy did nothing to quell the flow; he only worked harder to pin his partner, splashing droplets of blood onto Michael Corner's face.

Neville pulled away from Harry, apologizing as he put away his wand. Harry sat up, licking sweat from his upper lip. Harry was on fire and he could see, even from across the room, that there was a fire inside of Malfoy too. He watched Malfoy gingerly press the back of his hand to his still-dripping nose, shrugging off the half-hearted concern of Corner with a growl.

"Malfoy, see the Healer," Shacklebolt called over the still-grappling group of recruits.

Malfoy sneered, his teeth pink. Harry was distracted by two large drops of blood sparkling on the scuffed practice room floor. "I'm fine," Draco snarled, slipping his wand back into the holster on his hip. Shacklebolt weaved his way through the panting crowd, bald head bowed as he scribbled something down in a thin book. He stopped in front of Malfoy, still not lifting his eyes from the book. "I don't need a Healer, sir."

Shacklebolt finally looked up from his notes, his face unaffected. "Your broken nose is bleeding all over my floor, Malfoy. Either go to the Healer or go home." Harry watched defiance fill Malfoy's eyes before melting away. The other recruits were eyeing Malfoy with a combination of distaste and morbid curiosity. Shacklebolt returned to his notes and barked, "Potter, please ensure that Malfoy makes it to the infirmary."

Harry swallowed around the lump in his throat and put away his wand. "Yes sir."

Malfoy looked like he wanted to storm out of the practice room, but instead he brushed past Harry silently. The sharp tang of fresh blood hit Harry's senses and he followed Malfoy.

"Fucking Corner and his fucking elbows," Malfoy snarled, his voice sounding muted. "The fucking Healer hates me, probably will tell me my nose isn't broken and there is nothing he can do to fix it."

"Let me look at it, I'm sure I can fix it," Harry called ahead to Malfoy.

Malfoy stopped, gingerly sniffing as he wiped under his nose. "I'm sure you'll be more compassionate than our Healer. I'm fine, Potter."

"You're still bleeding," Harry chided, taking out his wand. "Hold still," he added, aiming his wand at Malfoy's nose.

Malfoy rolled his eyes and moved his head out of the way of Harry's wand. "I said I'm fine, Potter. Leave me alone."

Harry huffed, his grip tightening. "I won't make you go to the Healer if you let me fix it. You can do whatever the hell you want."

Draco wiped his stained hand on his trousers and winced. "I don't need your fucking help, Potter. How many bloody times do I have to tell you?"

They glared at each other for a long moment, a dark bruise slowly forming under Malfoy's eyes. Quick as a flash Harry made to pin Malfoy against the wall, grabbing for his delicate wrists. Malfoy was quicker and twisted his leg around the nearest of Harry's, tearing it from underneath him. Harry fell but grabbed Malfoy's ankles and pulled.

Malfoy's knee was buried in Harry's ribs and he couldn't breathe even as he scrambled on top of Malfoy, his wand abandoned somewhere in the tangle. Harry could feel Malfoy's sharp hip bones digging into the sides of his knees and he squeezed, trying to hold Malfoy's violently convulsing body down. Harry caught Malfoy's wrists only for them to break free seconds later. "Stop fighting me," Harry panted, sitting back to hold Malfoy's legs down.

Malfoy jerked and shoved, trying to sit up but finding himself unable. Harry licked his lips and tasted blood. He wasn't sure who it belonged to. Malfoy's eyes were black as Harry twisted his fingers into his hair and until Malfoy lifted his chin.

Malfoy kissed just as furiously as he fought, his probing fingers finding the rising bruises all over Harry's body. Harry was overwhelmed by the taste of blood and fury, the burning and coiling body beneath him consuming his very being. Then Malfoy bit his tongue and their embrace grew tighter. Harry felt a grinding shift against his cheek and Malfoy groaned into his mouth and instinctively pulled away.

"Fuck," Malfoy snapped, gingerly touching his nose and closing his eyes.

Harry's eyes were wide with apology even as he said, "If you would let me fix it, it wouldn't hurt anymore."

"If you weren't mashing your face into my fucking nose it wouldn't hurt either," Malfoy bit back, even as his erection dug into Harry's.

Harry was still tasting blood and thinking about the blistering skin beneath Malfoy's clothes. He pulled away the blood-stained fabric of Malfoy's shirt and saw scars sliding gracelessly over his skin. There were new lines tracing the old ones, some scabbed over and some still weeping. Malfoy wouldn't meet his eyes, and Harry growled as he scratched down his sides. Malfoy whimpered and arched up against Harry, the curve of his body begging to be brutalized again, and again.

In seconds that stretched like hours, both his and Malfoy's trousers were abandoned and Malfoy was frantically preparing himself, Harry's chest heaving as he surveyed the damage that Malfoy had reeked on himself. Harry wanted to say something- he didn't like the tight feeling in his chest- but then Malfoy took Harry's cock in his hand and hissed, "Fuck me, Potter."

And Harry did. Malfoy clawed at his back, holding and squeezing and tearing him apart. Harry was fucking him harder than he had ever fucked anyone in his life, finding himself overwhelmed by the wet slapping noise of their bodies mixed with Malfoy's whimpers of what was most likely a mix of pain and pleasure. He could feel beads of sweat sliding down his nose and into his eyes, but Malfoy's darkened eyes were locked to his and Harry saw the precise moment that Malfoy fell over the edge.

With a handful more of violent thrusts Harry came deep inside of Malfoy, one hand bracing himself next to Malfoy's head, the other pressed tightly to his chest. Malfoy lay on the floor, shaking and trying to catch his breath, and Harry stared down at him, in a sort of mindless awe. Even bruised, bloodied, scarred, and broken, Malfoy was fucking beautiful.

As if reading Harry's mind Malfoy's eyes snapped open and he pushed him away, untangling his shirt and trousers and righting himself. Harry reluctantly did the same and climbed to his feet, holding out a hand to help Malfoy up, which was pointedly refused.

"I believe I can see myself to the infirmary," Malfoy snapped. Harry tried to maintain neutral, but he was sure his eyes were giving his concern away. Malfoy frowned and took a step closer to him, his still-dark eyes tracing Harry's face. "You've got blood on you," Malfoy said in a light, matter-of-fact sort of way before leaning in and swiping the blood away with the tip of his tongue. The brief touch felt like heaven and hell mixed together, and Harry still hadn't started breathing again as Malfoy walked away down the corridor towards the infirmary.


End file.
